DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.
NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION
A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic
CHAPTER NINE
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"Maester Seymour is back! Maester Seymour is back!" In Guadosalam a child screamed excitedly at the top of his lungs, running about the ground near the tree trunks. The sun was just peering through the foliage, haven risen only recently. He ran through his neighbourhood, repeating what he said bounding quickly along.
From a branch, the leaves rustling in the breeze, a girl hopped down to join her school mate in spreading the news.
"I saw him and summoner Lady Yuna coming by chocobo!"
"Really? There'll be school today! Yay!"
Before long, the whole of Guadosalam heard of the news that their Lord would be returning, along with his Lady. Many stood in the street. Some waved their clawed hands, while others bowed their heads in respect.
In the trundling chocobo carriage, Yuna exclaimed as she observed through the window and drapes, "Your people really do love you."
"As their ruler I try not to disappoint them." Sighed Seymour, not turning to look at Yuna who was sitting right next to him.
Yuna noticed that he was slumping forward and looked moody. Then again, there were many events in the past days, and it was to be expected that he would be tired. "Can I come with you later to Macalania?" She asked, brushing his thick blue hair out of the way, so that she could see his face better.
He gave a weak smile, and chided, his eyes meeting hers. "You should rest my lady." When he saw that she gave him an quizzical look, he flirted with her, to try and tell her that there was nothing the matter. "Have you not had enough of me for the past few days?"
"Can I still come visit later?"
"Of course, but I want that you rest first." He was relieved that she was all right again. It pained him to see her in distress of any kind. It pained him to know that he had done something very selfish in order to have her. Suddenly, he felt very irresponsible. It was like a rusty manacle latched onto his conscience.
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Alone in her husband's private chamber she went to sleep quickly, the smell of fresh moss and the sound of leaves rustling outside was very calming. As she fell asleep, she told herself that at least Seymour was someone she should trust. But there were... secrets she had not yet found out about his strange and rather questionable character.
Before yesterday, she had no idea that he was at logger heads with Maester Kinoc. Then there was the moment when he suddenly ran away like a frightened animal from the party... Tromell and Pescal said that it had ever happened before.
What was wrong with him?
As she started to fall asleep, her thoughts wandered further. As do ours, when we are just about to go to that wonderful place of rest and unconsciousness.
She remembered Sir Auron. With her eyes shut, she recollected what he said. How could she leave? There was no way she could, she had promised Seymour to stay. Bring the Calm, make people happy and feel safe, she wished she could... But now she did not like the idea of dying anymore. There were so more many things in life that she could learn, so much more about Spira to see and experience.
As a last thought, she confirmed that there were many other summoners on their way to fight Sin. And as Seymour said, Sin always returns.
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"Teacher! Teacher!" Called the youngling at Seymour's feet.
"We missed you!" Cried another jumping up and down.
"For one week we got Priest Wenex. He's so fierce!"
"He yelled at us the other day!" Whined another from the back.
Maester Seymour stood outdoors, near his manor surrounded by two dozen Guado younglings. Aged roughly from six to nine, all in green and brown schooling tunics. He beamed at the sight of their bobbing heads, and bushy hair of nearly every colour. Delighted to see him, they pulled at his sleeves, and clustered around his middle, looking up at him.
"Did he now? Do tell me what happened." He said, getting down on one knee, and pushing his heavy satin robe out of the way, so that he came face to face with his lively students.
"We were playing catch the fiend and tame him!" Explained a youngling with tan skin and yellow hair.
"He said it was evil!" Cried another, rolling his amber eyes expressively.
He knelt there with his arms around as many as possible, with a calm expression. Listening patiently while they protested and confided in him, as though the priest had done something seriously immoral, like banning all fun and play forever.
Inwardly he sighed, because Priest Wenex was not a Guado. He was a Yevonite stationed here by some (in Seymour's opinion) incompetent official or rather from Bevelle. Wenex was... not very aware of Guado's customs, and it did not help either that he was a stereotypical man.
When they saw that their teacher was going to speak, they immediately fell silent, and kept their questions for after he was through speaking. As he had taught them.
"Priest Wenex does not know about our customs. The next time he scolds you, enlighten him. And now I want you all to forgive him, and remember that not all Yevonites are like him." He spoke in his soft tenor voice.
There were indignant groans and cries of protest, some moved restlessly, but they fell silent again, respecting their teacher.
Lord Seymour, still on one knee asked in a firm tone of voice. "Why must you forgive Priest Wenex?"
The Guado younglings became physically still for a moment, and then together they said, their soft voices blending nicely, "Because he did not know any better."
Seymour lowered his head expectantly, and turned his ear to the side. He caught the scent of slight suspense.
Their small faces took on a look of pained concentration, before they began again, more subdued and hushed now. "Because he cared about us, and meant no true harm."
"That is correct. And?"
"The only time we will not have forgiveness is when the other has purposeful intentions to hurt for no rhyme or reason." They recited.
He sighed, bringing them all into a group hug. "I am proud that you all remember."
Sensing that they had been forgiven, they touched and stroked his hair as well as his ears. All young Guado children often did so to elders and parental figures, showing affection. This is not a custom because no Guado younglings were taught to do it. Rather, it is behavioural and instinctive, reflecting the gentle and general loving nature of the Guado.
One of the more unruly children abruptly said, "But I still don't like him."
He laughed at the youngling's rudeness that had come out of pure honesty. "Come. Lesson time begins soon."
"Maester Seymour?" Came a small voice from the back.
"Yes my dear?"
A youngling with pale green hair, one hand clasped her friend's hand, while the other tugged his sleeve. "Will you ever go away for so long again?"
Her friend who had slate grey hair and eyes to match agreed and whined, "We really missed you!"
While Seymour led the flock of younglings, he said, "Not likely." He understood well, that to them, one week felt very much like forever. All around him, he smelt their response still of welcoming back to the temple as their teacher.
"Teacher, can we go sit by the brook today while you teach?"
"Away from Priest Wenex!" Piped a youngling with red hair.
The moment he nodded, there were musical cries of delight. They ran ahead of him on the sandy gravel path, already knowing the familiar way there.
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It was later in the afternoon, when Yuna strolled to where Tromell and Pescal said Lord Seymour sometimes held his lessons. On her way there, she saw him. She was surprised at the unlikely sight.
The area next to the flowing brook was of a field, with knee-high grass. Here and there were large grey boulders, the field had no trees. When the wind blew, the pale grass rippled and waved much like waves of the sea. With his back against a very large rock, he was asleep with two children on his lap, another two on either side of him, and all around were children sleeping. The children were wearing green and brown school tunics. It was obviously nap time, and she could tell that he was as tired as she was. He must have fallen asleep with them.
She carefully made her way to him, the long grass tickling her ankles and shins as she went. There she sat with her back against the same rounded boulder, a little ways away. "Seymour?" She whispered his name. His eyes slowly opened at the sound of her voice.
"Yuna..." His eyes adjusted, and a smile played on his lips. "Where are you?"
"Nearby." She whispered, "Leaning on the same stone."
"How embarrassing that you have seen me like this." He turned his head to where her voice was coming from. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yes."
He took in a deep refreshing breath, and the sight of the slumbering younglings around him. "I can smell you from here Yuna. I do not appear to be suited for tutoring young children to you?"
Yuna felt a blush creep to her cheeks at that statement, embarrassed of him knowing what she thought. "You are full of surprises."
Evidently, he would rather they were here, alone. He asked her softly, "Do I look so cruel a man?"
The Lady summoner was silent. For that time, only the sound of the grass and the wind could be heard.
"I assure you it is fine Yuna. I wish you to be honest to me, as I am honest with you." Seymour said. His tone gentle, not cunning or menacing.
Yuna put her hands together before answering uncertainly, "Yes, and no."
Seymour thought about what she said. "I shall see you later in the night, you can tell me what you mean." He stretched abit and began to wake his students.
A youngling blinked the sleep from his eyes and yawned, remembering just in time to cover his mouth before he got reprimanded.
"Wow! It's Lady Yuna!" Came an enthusiastic squeak.
"Where? Where?"
They surrounded her, and came very close. For a moment they were silent, bowing to her before greeting her as politely as they could muster.
A small girl said to her in awe. "Lady Yuna, you're really pretty!"
Another said, with a worried expression, "You won't be going to Zanarkand right? I think dying is awful!"
She smiled at their small veined faces, with pointed ears. Although they looked different from Yevonite children, with eye and hair colour so much more intense, they still looked endearing and adorable. Already, their hands were as big as, or bigger than hers. "No, no, of course not. I will be staying with Lord Seymour."
All at once, they started chattering and introducing themselves. Soon, they calmed and slowed down, politely taking turns. Then they backed away from Yuna to give her space, sitting around her in the grass.
Yuna giggled with her hand over her mouth. "Really," She said in her soft tone of voice, "I shouldn't be here. It's class time now!"
An older youngling with grey hair, who earlier introduced himself as "Lars" said, "After nap time class is dismissed!"
"So..." Asked Yuna, "What did you learn today?"
"Respect." All said together.
A girl with green tufty hair named "Mirin" said, "Never insult anyone, and always be polite."
"Because all have feelings. If you're ever insulted," continued Lars, "take it with a pinch of salt."
Just then, the smallest and at the same time most rebellious of the class, "Bramble" who had dark blue hair shook his head. "I'll give the bully some black magic!"
"What else did you learn?" Inquired Yuna. She was just as interested in them, as they were in her.
"Fire!" All announced happily together, the wind blowing the grass and making their thick wild hair billow.
Sitting at the back, enjoying himself and watching the scene, Seymour sighed. He so much more enjoyed teaching younglings and children. Rather than older students, particularly those he did not have a long history with. From the back, he waved at Yuna, who smiled sweetly in return as he left.
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He went to the ice temple of Macalania to get work done, and meditate. He performed sendings for three dead people.
For most natural deaths, people would bring the deceased to the temples, where the high priest of the temple would be the one who performed the sending. Being the High Priest of Macalania temple, it was his duty, and often his pleasure to do so.
But it was not the case today. Twirling his stave, Seymour did his tasks listlessly, his spirit and conscience were unwell. His brow was furrowed, his hands constantly grasping and shifting on his weapon. Yuna... he could see her eyes. Deep, soulful, blue and green focused onto him.
He would usually enjoy the masses of pyre flies around him, their glowing sheen and ever-changing transparent rainbow colours. Their haunting cries, were songs to him. What would it be like to join their ranks, hovering in the air aimlessly...?
He let out a soft gasp, and leant forward suddenly with his hand over his vehemently beating heart. His weapon fell noiselessly into the glistening snow at his dark leather boots. His face, a picture of pain and suffering of a solitary type, due to an ember... mercilessly clawing out from the depths of his wretched soul. Leaving his summoner's stave behind, he left for the security of the chamber of the fayth.
In there the sound of his steps were hollow and heavy, the air felt more colder to him than usual. The singing of the fayth did nothing to calm the desperate emotion caged in his throbbing chest. Aware that he was all alone now, there he went onto his knees. His breathing unsteady, he grimaced at the emotional torture.
"Oh Yuna..." He hissed with both clawed hands over his tattooed chest. He threw his head back and screamed, releasing as much rage and love his body and flesh would allow.
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It was already late into the night when he had went back. He could smell her, she was sleeping deeply. In the darkness and silence, he shuffled his bare feet on the moss floor towards the bed where she lay. The pale light from outside revealed part of her face, and the soft skin of her bare back.
For an instant, he stayed there, at the bedside. And watched her sleep. His heart was pounding with ardour in his chest. His mind and control was hanging on edge, his mouth open as he breathed desperately through his teeth. He was not himself.
Everything about her, how peaceful she smelt... her body unmoving and still was driving him insane with temptation. He found himself helplessly gazing at her pink lips, he reached and stroked her back with his hand, when she stirred, he suddenly put his mouth onto hers.
She woke with a start, she did not calm down upon recognising him. Instead she hurt him further by struggling, and she ruthlessly rejected his fervent affection. In agony, his breathing quickened and his blood raced. He found himself on top of her, violently pulling at her night dress. When she began to scream, he muted her frightened voice by forcing his mouth onto hers into a coerced kiss.
Her struggling increased, he could smell her fear as her body writhed from his sensual touch, twisting underneath him. Seymour broke the kiss lying on top of her, making sure she would not get away with the weight of his body, and at the same time his hands were tightly around her shaking wrists.
"Seymour, please..." She gasped, Yuna's eyes were wide with fear and anxiety. She was searching his face for the reason of his brazen behaviour. He did not answer, but started to passionately pinch the skin of her neck with his lips. His breathing grew more and more ardent with her resisting him in his arms, he pulled her closer against his chest feeling her warmth, his arms wrapped around her small waist.
Again he put his mouth onto hers, running his tongue onto her lips, wanting to feel the inside of her mouth. With an urgent moan, he pushed her harder against the bed.
Her breathing was different now, unsteady and filled with a something she had never felt before, her body was responding to his, moving naturally against her will. "Please.. stop it... Seymour..." Sharply contradicting her own words, her eyes were closing and her lips parted allowing his tongue to enter as she returned his kisses. She could feel his hands rubbing her thighs, his claws just pressing erotically into her skin, and through their clothes she felt his hard object of desire pressing against her.
His robe came undone whilst they kissed, impatiently he pulled up her dress and entered her, and began to thrust into her with heavy vigour. He could feel her tense muscles around his erection, she was so tight! He ignored her screams of pain, and loud distressed cries begging him to stop...
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End Of Chapter Nine
